


81. Touching Base

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [81]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:21:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1307971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	81. Touching Base

_**Sam and Ryan[](http://www.journalfen.net/users/kwanten/profile)**_[ **kwanten**](http://www.journalfen.net/users/kwanten/): touching base  
 **players only. current.**

Sam passes out pretty much the moment he gets to Citadel. He doesn't do well on flights and this one, without Ryan, was even worse than usual. But the rooms at the club are sound-proofed and he puts out the 'do not disturb' sign, collapses on the bed fully-clothed and sleeps right through until mid-afternoon when he wakes, calls for a beer and sandwich from room service and takes a shower while he waits. He slips on a clean pair of jeans and checks his watch, calculating the time difference between here and London, then picks up his phone and dials Ryan.

Ryan is not happy. It's the first time he and Sam have ever been apart, and he's taking it like a man: moping and whining and dragging his ass around in a funk. For a guy who sleeps little to begin with, he's hardly been sleeping at all, unable to enjoy sprawling over the entire empty bed like he used to. As for his insecurities about sending Sam off to spend time alone with Natalie... well, Sam doesn't need his hand held for that part. It's only a two-day trip, and Ryan was determined not to hover. His lover doesn't need him at his side every spare moment of every day. And as intense as things have been since they first got together, a little distance is probably healthy.  
   
He's only telling himself that for the millionth time when his phone sounds Sam's ringtone - AC/DC's "Big Balls" - and Ryan nearly breaks his neck hurtling down the stairs to the kitchen where he's left his cell charging.  
   
"Hello?" Yeah, he's breathless.

"Hey. It's me," Sam says, his usual greeting. "I miss you." Straight to the point.

For a moment Ryan can't say anything at all, he can only grin. Then he nods, crossing into the wide living area and settling back on a black leather couch. "Yeah? All right. I guess I..." he shrugs, but he knows his smile's in his voice, "yeah, I noticed you were gone."

Sam laughs. "Brat," he murmurs, eyes sparkling. "How are you doing?"

"I'm good," Ryan answers, then amends with more honesty, "tired. Can't sleep. Miss you."

"That's not good," Sam says, referencing Ryan's inability to sleep. "You've been having problems since we left home. Have you thought about taking anything? Even just a couple glasses of wine?" Not that he wants to encourage his lover to be an alcoholic or anything, but he knows Ryan's lack of sleep is affecting everything, including his writing.

"I'll do better once you're back, I promise," Ryan tells him. He lies back on the couch, kicking his feet up on the arm. And he smiles again. "I slept fantastic that night after you put on a suit and spanked me." Not that it was the suit that made the magic happen, but still -- Sam in a suit. _Damn_. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Passed out the minute I got here," Sam says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "Slept until twenty minutes ago," he adds with a yawn, turning his mouth from the phone. "Sorry." Then he grins. There's a while yet until he has to get ready to pick up Natalie. "What are you wearing?"

Ryan giggles. _Giggles_ , and it's so very manly. What a shocking turn for the conversation. "Um. Am I supposed to make up something good, or am I supposed to tell you the truth?"

"Truth," Sam says, mouth turned from the phone again when there's a knock at the door. "Come in. That's my lunch," he tells Ryan.

"I'm supposed to compete with lunch?" Ryan glances down the length of his body, wishing he had bothered to wear something exciting today. Something like... he doesn't even know what, he always dresses the same way. "Cargo shorts. My nipple rings. My leather bracelet." Not that he ever takes off those last few items, but still -- they make the outfit. "That's it. Oh, and I didn't prep this morning. It feels weird."

"Just leave it there," Sam tells the server when he rolls the trolley in, standing and signing for the meal before he locks the door behind the guy and goes back to the bed, the trolley pulled with him. But then his attention's back on the phone, on what Ryan's said, and he's easily able to visualize his lover, his cock going hard at the thought. "Then maybe you _should_ prep." His tone making clear it's not really a suggestion.

That voices shivers through Ryan, and he nods. "Yes, Sir." He jogs lightly up the stairs to the second floor of their flat, heading for the master bath and snatching a bottle of lube out of the cabinet. Kicking off his shorts, he lies back on the bed and braces the phone against his shoulder. His breath catches when he presses that first slick finger to his hole, then swiftly pushes it inside.

Sam's cock throbs hard at that hitch of breath and he unzips his jeans, easing his sudden discomfort. "Tell me what you're doing," he orders. "I want the words and I want to hear how it feels."

Ryan whimpers softly. Talking while he's turned-on -- it's never been a strength of his. "I... I've got one finger inside," he whispers, his cheeks burning. "I'm rubbing around it with my other finger, because... god, that's such a fucking good tease." He swallows hard. "Now I'm pushing both fingers in, and," his heart races, his hips starting to rock, "I'm fucking myself."

Fuck. Sam slides his hand into his open jeans, wrapping it around his cock and stroking slowly. "Push another one in," he orders, eyes closed, listening to Ryan, a very clear image of his lover playing in his mind.

It's incredible that it should feel so different from daily routine. But doing it for Sam, with Sam listening... Ryan gasps as his third finger penetrates, and he winces just a little at the burn. "It's good," he whispers, twisting his fingers together and rocking with the motion. "Fuck, Sir, it's so good."

"It sounds good," Sam murmurs, grinning, slicking his fingers through the precome at the tip of his cock. "Keep going. Take your time but I want you to work a fourth one in."

Ryan bites down on his bottom lip and nods, then remembers Sam can't see him. "Yes, Sir," he says softly. With his clean hand he switches his phone to speaker mode, laying it by his head, then slicks more lube onto his fingers. "Three," he says breathlessly, coring his fingers back into himself. He pushes deeper, his breath hitching with every twist of his wrist. Then... "Four," he gasps, and groans as he arches his back and locks his fingers tightly together, pushing inside. "Oh god!" he exclaims, shoving deeper. "Sir!"

"Not yet," Sam says, giving his own cock a squeeze, his orgasm held at bay. "I want you to try for your thumb. Not your fist," _not this time,_ "just your thumb. See how bendy you really are."

Oh shit. Ryan had a feeling that was coming. He gulps a breath and spreads his four fingers as wide as he can. "Yes, Sir," he gasps. "I'm... I'm stretching myself." He winces, then shoves another pillow behind his shoulders, propping himself up. And he reaches, curling his wrist. Whimpering as he tucks his thumb into his palm and pushes inside, more than he's ever penetrated himself before.

The whimpers are good, his cock jerking against his palm, but Sam wants to hear more. "Is it in, boy?"

"Yes... Fuck yes, Sir," Ryan groans. "I'm up to my knuckles," he says with a gasp. "I... God, Sir, need you!"

"You've got me. I'm right here," Sam says, his breath coming harder and faster as he roughly jerks his own cock. So close he can fucking taste it. "And I want you to come for me."

Ryan gasps, a shudder rolling through him. He curls in tighter on his fingers, shoving his thumb inside himself. He drops his other hand to stroke his cock and he is done for, coming with an explosive cry.

That cry fills Sam's ear and he twists his hand roughly around the head of his cock, thumbnail digging into the slit. Chokes out a ragged "fuck," before coming so hard his body shakes with it, white pulses spattering his stomach and chest.

It sounds so familiar -- Ryan can _see_ Sam overwhelmed by his climax, and it sends another aftershock zinging through his body. "Sir," he whispers, uncurling and stretching out flat against the pillows. He smiles faintly and whispers, "This is the point when I lick you clean."

"Mm-hm. I wish you were here to do it," Sam murmurs, glancing at his chest. "I'm gonna have to take another shower."

"All that come, going to waste. When you've got such an orally-fixated boy..." Ryan sighs, a twinkle in his eye. "Bloody shame."

"I'll let you make it up to me tomorrow night," Sam says. "You can get your mouth on all of me, not just my come." He grins. "In the meantime though, I want you working on that. Stretching yourself and getting your thumb inside. If you can manage your fist, do it. And you can come as many times as you want as long as you can still come _for me_ when I get home."

That's a hell of an assignment. Ryan blanches, trying to absorb the idea of taking his own fist.  
   
Definitely, some yoga first.  
   
"Yes, Sir," he murmurs, lazily stroking his fingers through the mess on his own belly. He grins a little. "I'll work on that."

"Good boy," Sam says, his cock throbbing still at the thought. "Christ. I bet you look a mess right now."

Ryan huffs a laugh. "Yes, Sir," he agrees, his grin cheeky. "Come all over my stomach, slowly dripping down. My ass all slick and open." He clenches those muscles tightly shut for a moment, and hisses at the shock it sends through him.

"Send me a picture," Sam says, desire overriding common sense. "I want to see."

Another soft laugh. "Okay." Ryan picks up his phone and frowns at it for a second before angling it how he figures it's best, then curling up and snapping a bird's-eye shot which displays belly, softened cock, and hole. "Sending," he murmurs, pushing the button to save and transmit. "Sure you don't want one of my fingers in there? For posterity?"

"Yeah. Send that too," Sam says, taking a look at the first as it comes through and groaning raggedly.

"Okay." It's not as easy now that he's not hard, but Ryan manages to curl tightly around himself and push back inside with a gasp. All four fingers plus thumb, stretching him, and he has to calm his suddenly-hitching breath so he can take the picture. "God," he says with a sigh, lying back and hitting send. "All yours."

Sam's softening cock gives another sharp throb when the second picture comes through and he gives it a long look, zooming in on those fingers with another low groan. "If I had any common sense, I'd delete these..." he murmurs. But he clearly doesn't. Not when it comes to Ryan.

"And if you were a gentleman, you'd send me something back." Ryan's mouth twists in a grin as he tries to hold in the snicker. "Now what?"

"I'll send you a shot without my face," Sam says. Yep. Not a lick when it comes to Ryan. "If that'll do?"

"Ooh, yes please," Ryan murmurs. "That'll inspire me to get through this long hard night with my fingers stuffed in my ass."

Sam laughs and takes a shot of himself from the neck down, chest and stomach covered in come, his softening cock peeking out of his jeans, looking utterly debauched if not quite as dirty as Ryan. "There you go," he says, sending the picture.

"Ohh god," Ryan breathes when the image comes through. "My mouth is watering," he murmurs. "When you come home, your boy will take care of you."

"Should I wake you if you're sleeping?" Sam asks. It'll be well after midnight by the time he gets back.

"Absolutely." Ryan is surprised Sam even asks. "Even if it's just because you're passing out in bed, wake me first." It's crazy how much this brief separation from Sam has affected him already.

"Okay. Will do," Sam says softly, nodding. He pauses for a second and then adds, "Love you." It's the first time he's said the words when Ryan wasn't right there in front of him.

Ryan smiles, feeling heat rush to his cheeks at those soft words. "I love you, Sam. Say hi to Natalie for me."

"I will," Sam says, reluctant to let Ryan go. "Try and get some sleep. In between working on your assignment," he teases.

"Yes, Sir." Ryan chuckles, thinking that at least now he won't be bored and emo, sitting around thinking about how much he misses Sam. Nope, he's got a full day ahead of him tomorrow. Very full. "I'll do that."


End file.
